


The Secret Garden

by ladymal



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymal/pseuds/ladymal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the ball at the Winter Palace approaches, Ashanna is returning to Skyhold from the Hinterlands and finds a forgotten place. While there, she tells Solas a secret she has been keeping close to her heart. A gift fic for destinyapostasy featuring their Inquisitor, Ashanna Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret Garden

Ashanna had never gone so fast in all her life. Inrel's long, muscular legs flew over the snowy ground as smoothly as if there were wings attached to his feet. This was not the easy, rumbling pace of an aravel or the delicate trot she could coax the halla into when she rode in secret, far from the main camp. It was wild and unrestrained. It was like being stolen away by the wind.

  
If there was one thing being the Inquisitor was good for, it was this.

  
The earth rose up into a rocky hill and Inrel bounded up it with effortless strides. She urged him to slow then reined him in entirely once they'd reached the top. He snorted out clouds of air as he gave a hissing rumble and Ashanna patted his scaled neck with a smile. Turning his neck, he stared at her with one baleful eye for daring such a thing. _Yes, of course. That was terribly impertinent of me._ She reached into the little pouch she had secured to the saddle and pulled out a few strips of jerky. It was smoked nug— a particular favorite of his— and she could see his nostrils flare as he caught its scent.

  
She held the treats out and he snatched them up, his sharp teeth nearly taking her fingers with them. As he busied himself with chewing, Ashanna hunched down into her scarf and coat and looked out over the wooded fields. The Hinterlands were a beautiful place at any time of the year but especially so during the winter months. There was a sort of silence as the snows began to fall that she found soothing.

  
It was why she had come out here on her own, though she had to practically sneak away to do it. There were always so many people around her. At Skyhold, in camp, even when traveling her companions were never beyond earshot. There were times she felt she needed a moment alone just to be able to breathe. She would have asked Solas to join her— whose company she could never tire of— but he had been busy translating a text and she hadn't wanted to disturb him

  
Inrel had finished eating and was pawing at the ground restlessly. Her lungs chilled pleasantly from the winter air as she sighed with contentment. It truly was a lovely place but she could feel the itch to fly in her bones, too, so she let him dart down the hill and into the trees below.

* * *

  
She couldn't say how long they ran but they made their way past lake and hill and through dense groves of evergreens. She was careful to guide him into a somewhat circular route so that they wouldn't end up going too far. Inrel was just beginning to tire and she was about to start the journey back to camp when she found it.

  
It was a ruin of grey stone, its single tower jagged and half-collapsed. The crumbling remains of an outer wall lay scattered around it in places as if they were wooden toy blocks that some ornery child had knocked about. When Ashanna peeked beyond what was still standing, she saw a garden in full bloom. Snow still covered the ground and dusted the plants but they simply didn't seem to notice, little thriving pops of color beneath a blanket of white.

  
Surprised and curious, she walked Inrel inside. Not two steps inside and she could feel the magic that had seeped into the place, how the Veil stretched out to touch it. _Can you hear me?_ the magic called, singing to her very blood. _Can you feel me?_ It was an old voice, tired and worn from the passage of centuries, but rooted deep with power.

  
The place had grown wild and overrun but there was still a hint of the meandering pathways that had woven between the plants. Ashanna followed these between rows of flowers in delicate shades and lush trees. Weathered statues of people stood among the plants, some broken and obscured by snow and greenery but most were still intact.

  
She rounded a corner and startled a herd of deer grazing around a statue, their coats thick and white for winter. Inrel stirred— eager to give chase— but she reined him in until the last cottony tail had vanished. The statue was alone in the clearing except for a large dogwood tree overflowing with pink flowers that had helped shelter it from the recent snow. After dismounting, she led Inrel over for a closer look.

  
Its features were worn and vague from time but still identifiable; an armored woman carved from white stone. Her bowed head was hidden by a draped veil and her hands rested on the hilt of a standing sword. Something was written on the base and Ashanna had to push aside a patch of white rain lilies in order to read it.

  
"In cordis mei," she muttered, her tongue stumbling and unsure, "et it— _iterum_ usque ad coniun— _coniunctionem_ illius requiescet."

  
What that meant, she couldn't begin to guess. The words themselves sounded somewhat familiar but they weren't from a language she was even passingly familiar with. _Alamarri?_ she thought with a frown. Most ruins in the Hinterlands could be traced back to them but nothing in this place looked like their work to her.

  
_Solas would know._

  
Ashanna's want of solitude came to a sharp and abrupt end. She wished that she had asked Solas to come with her, that they had found this place together. He would be able to tell her so much, she was sure, and all the while with that slight furrow of his brow and the spark in his eye that always sent her heart fluttering. Her chest ached with the suddenness of missing him and she shook her head at herself with a wry smile. _Creators, you wouldn't survive a day without him, would you?_

  
Inrel was tossing his head— trying to yank the reins out of her hand, she was certain— so she straightened and got back into the saddle. He took a trotting step forward, testing. _Maybe I can't but does it matter when I don't have to?_ With a nudge to Inrel sides, she spurred him on and they raced back to camp.

* * *

  
When she got there, it was to find Solas pacing just beyond its boundaries. He stopped once he spotted her and his shoulders seem to relax. Ashanna slowed to a stop and swung down, a small frown on her face.

  
"Is everything alright?" she asked.

  
"It is." He nodded but his brow was furrowed. "When you did not return within the hour, I grew concerned. I was only debating whether to search for you or if I was simply overreacting."

  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you," she said with a contrite look, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Perhaps I shouldn't have told the others that I was gathering herbs when I actually just wanted a few moments to myself."

  
"I thought as much," he lifted an eyebrow and he smirked slightly, "seeing as you left your herb bag behind."

  
"That was rather obvious of me, wasn't it?"

  
"I was amazed that no one seemed to notice it sitting outside your tent. Especially considering it reeks of elfroot," Solas said, a teasing lilt to his voice.

  
"Did I truly leave it right there?" She wrinkled her nose. While she could lie with the best of them, she always seemed to forget to tie up the loose ends. "I'm going to be eaten alive at the Winter Palace, aren't I?"

  
"While such activities in a forbidden place can be thrilling," He was smirking fully now, and Ashanna could feel a blush warming her cheeks, "eating you in front of the nobility of Orlais would doubtless be a serious blow to the Inquisition's cause. I imagine not even the Ambassador's considerable skills could repair the damage."

  
"Creators, Solas!" She let out a scandalized laugh. "That is _not_ what I meant."

  
"Ah, a simple misunderstanding then. I apologize."

  
"All of that _aside_ ," she said, willing her face to stop blazing, "there's something I wanted to show you."

  
"Oh?"

  
"Yes, so stop looking so self-satisfied and mount up." Solas quirked an eyebrow and she realized what she had said. "That wasn't— _fenedhis_ , just get on, would you? Before I allow Sera to put rotten eggs in your bedroll like she's been wanting to."

  
Smiling, he bowed his head. "As you wish."

* * *

  
It was a tight fit with both of them in the same saddle but Ashanna didn't mind. It was nice to have Solas' arms around her and her head tucked under his chin. It was warm and comforting and even though it was more practical than intimate, it made her feel loved.

  
With the extra weight, Inrel's pace was slower than before but still a good clip and they managed to get to the ruins soon enough. They dismounted and she tied the reins to a nearby tree before taking Solas through what remained of the garden walls. With a smile she watched him as they walked, soaking in the subtle passion in his eyes.

  
"Fascinating," he said, stopping to examine a yellow rose larger than his hand. It released a sweet, clean scent as he touched its petals. "I don't believe I've ever come across a garden preserved in such a way. For what purpose, I wonder?"

  
"There's a statue with an inscription that might tell us something; towards the center, I think," she offered and laced her fingers through his. "I couldn't understand it but perhaps you can make sense of it?"

  
"Lead the way."

  
They made their way slowly down the paths, speculating on the nature of the place, who had created it, and simply enjoying one another's company. When they reached the clearing, Solas gazed at the statue itself for a moment— his eyes flicking briefly towards the immense dogwood next to it with its flowers of gentle pink— then hummed quietly and sat on his heels to examine the inscription.

  
"It is Tevene," he told her, glancing at her as she kneeled beside him, "though a very ancient dialect not in use since before the creation of the Chantry. Do you see the shape of the letters? They are short. Sharp. In later periods, they become longer and softer though the words themselves are often related."

  
"Can you translate it?"

  
"Let us see." He traced the letters with a gloved finger as he spoke, frowning in concentration. "The place of my heart...so shall she rest until we are united once more. Interesting."

  
"It's a grave," she said, lifting her eyebrows in surprise. "The garden, as well. Someone preserved it for their dead lover."

  
"It appears that way, yes." The rain lilies sprung back over the engraving as he released them and stood. "A sad tale. I imagine the memories that are kept here are especially vivid."

  
She peered through her lashes at him as he helped her to her feet. "We can stay and see them, if you like."

  
"I would." He smiled. "If you are certain you won't be missed."

  
"The others can survive without me for a night."

  
"With Sera unsupervised, one might argue differently," he said wryly.

  
"She won't do any permanent damage." Pausing, she furrowed her brow. "She's not likely to, at any rate."

  
"An encouraging thought."

  
"I'm pleased you agree."

  
Solas chuckled softly and turned to consider the statue, gazing up at the woman's hidden face. A grin tugged at Ashanna's lips as mischief stirred and she crouched— slow and quiet— to gather a ball of snow. On light feet, she stepped close and her hands darted out to dump the bundle down the back of his furs. She'd barely tugged on them when he whipped around and suddenly a bundle of cold, cold snow was tumbling down her front.

  
Ashanna gave a strangled shriek and desperately tried to shake it out. Solas was chuckling again, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, and it turned into full-blown laugher when she accidentally dropped the snow she'd intended for him down her own front. She tried to send him a baleful look but it was ruined by her own amusement.

  
"I imagine you think yourself very clever," she said with a slight shiver. The snow was melting now, little rivers of ice that rolled down her chest and chilled her skin. "When did you even pick it all up?"

  
He gestured at the base of the statue where a sweep of snow was missing. "You weren't the only one scheming, vhenan."

  
"I would never do such a thing to you, Solas. _Never_." A snort of laughter escaped her and she covered her mouth with her hand, grinning.

  
"Then I apologize for mistaking your purely innocent actions for deviousness." He was smiling and his eyes were soft and fond. "You were simply in need of a cold drink, no doubt."

  
"Yes, and now _I_ am cold."

  
He took her hand and drew her in as if to hug her but spun her instead. Startled and delighted, she gave a laugh as they began to dance. It was one of the ones that Josephine had begun to teach her in preparation for the Winter Palace with moderate success. To her surprise, Solas' steps were smooth and confident as he guided her around the clearing, more than compensating for her own ineptness.

  
"You're quite good at this," she told him. "Even when there is music, I can't seem to find the rhythm."

  
"I have had the practice." Solas spun her again but this time she misstepped and he had to catch her. "You are not so bad yourself considering you've only recently begun to learn."

  
"Thank you, though almost falling does seem to undermine that." Careful not to step on his feet, she gazed up at him. "When did you learn to dance?"

  
His face took on the closed, somewhat sad expression it did whenever she asked about his past. "As a young man. When I led a life much different from this one."

  
Not wanting to ruin things by prying, she only smiled and fell silent. With a last spin, their dance ended and she darted close to capture his lips with hers. It was heady and dizzying and when they separated, Ashanna leaned her head against his chest. As his arms came around her and she listened to his heartbeat, she knew. It was something she had been thinking every time she looked at him but hadn't said out of the fear that locked the words in her throat. But she wasn't afraid anymore and she thought her heart might burst with the warmth of it.

  
"Ar lath ma," she said quietly.

  
His heart sped up beneath her ear for a moment and his hug grew tighter as if he was trying to bring her closer still.

  
"Ar lath ma, vhenan."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually point out the (usually unintentional) plant symbolism that I put into my stories but I think it's important here for the reader to know what they mean. A lot is lost when these are left unknown.
> 
> dogwood- sign of affection. In the Victorian era, suitors would gift this to their intended.  
> yellow roses- apology, a broken heart, intense emotion, undying love, extreme betrayal  
> rain lily- I love you back, I must atone for my sins, I will never forget you


End file.
